


Photoshoot '65

by letitmclennon



Category: The Beatles
Genre: 1965, M/M, Photography, david bailey - Freeform, photoshoot, photoshoot 1965
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-22 04:09:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11959401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letitmclennon/pseuds/letitmclennon
Summary: They’re just photos, right, John?Stupid, bloody, simple photos.Although in all of them I can see each shade that just means the two of us.John Lennon. Paul McCartney.





	Photoshoot '65

**Author's Note:**

> This os was written in my first language (Italian) five years ago. It was just my third oneshot about John and Paul, the third of many more. :3  
> It is settled during the David Bailey's photoshoot of 1965. They were so cute. I just had to write something.  
> Sorry for possible mistakes.

They’re just photos, right, John?  
Stupid, bloody, simple photos.  
Although in all of them I can see each shade that just means the two of us.  
John Lennon. Paul McCartney.  
We’re goofing around and teasing each other.  
Then you tell that silly joke. Everyone laughs, but you look at me because you know that it wasn’t funny at all and everyone is laughing just because they are so in love with John Lennon and anything that comes out from his mouth is charming and funny. And I just smile back to you because… shit, it really sucked!  
The laughing dies, you look towards the lens and close your eyes, while mine linger on your perfect profile. God, it really is fucking perfect!  
The photographer shoots one, two, four… I’ve lost count.  
I just can’t take my eyes off you. I love your profile, God only knows how much. Yeah, I love that nose of yours too, the one you can’t really stand. I love it because it’s part of you and it’s what makes you John Lennon. And I love your lips and I want to kiss them whenever you’re with me. I want to kiss them when we sing together and there’s just a mic dividing us. I want to kiss them when you kiss Julian’s forehead and his baby’s smell remains on your skin. I want to kiss them here as well, in front of everybody and I hate you because you’re just provoking me, because you know I’m not brave enough to do it and I’m aching, happy only with my daydreaming.  
You keep doing it though, because you like teasing me, it amuses you, it turns you on. And when the photographer tells us to sit down, you obey and sit down next to and behind me, but anyway too close to me. Your head touches mine lightly, your breath caresses my skin and makes me shiver.  
Can a shiver be exposed on a film, John? I suppose yes, and so do you, because right now you make me smile and then laugh and laugh again. You’re distracting me. Otherwise everybody will notice the effect you have on me. And then…  
“Let’s be serious, Paulie, just for a while, ok?” you ask, without even notice that your pet name makes already everything less serious.  
But it’s ok, John, for how much is possible being serious and convincing next to John Lennon. Let’s be serious. Even the photographer is laughing, he can’t believe us.  
Then you move and I wonder what you’re up to. A second later I can feel your chest resting on my back, your chin on my nape, while your arms and your scent wrap my entire body. My heart loses a beat, or maybe even two, and my mind is going crazy for how much I want you. Probably I have the dumbest expression ever and I can already imagine what you’re going to say me, when you’ll watch all the photo shoot: “It seems you’re just saw a ghost, huh, princess?”  
Oh yeah, the ghost of something that will be true only within us, that will be printed forever in our looks and smiles…  
Whereas all the rest are just photos, right, John?


End file.
